


The Words

by Threshie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 14:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11337066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Threshie/pseuds/Threshie
Summary: Dean and Castiel give in to their desires, leaving everything unsaid. The next morning, Cas wonders if they’ve ruined what they had before.





	The Words

Pink and orange light spilled across the pillow. Castiel had watched as the darkness slowly gave way to light through the little motel room’s curtains, and finally it was here. Tomorrow. 

A sliver of the sunrise edged over from the pillow and caressed his cheek, the warmth a welcome comfort. He’d laid there all night thinking about it, and he still didn’t know what to expect. In all of the ages he’d existed, he’d only laid with another person in their bed once, and she hadn’t even turned out to be who she said she was. He closed his eyes, willing away memories of April — or rather, the reaper who told him that was her name. It was wrong to compare Dean to her in any capacity, but he had no other experience with sharing someone’s bed to compare to.

Dean… If he hadn’t been the one to come to Castiel and make the first move, this never would have happened. Cas had been determined not to admit to anything for Dean’s own sake. For the sake of their friendship — a friendship he was unsure of now. Tomorrow was here. They weren’t friends anymore, were they? At best, Dean would consider them something else entirely. At worst, they’d ruined what they had before.

The soft rustle of the blankets only registered just as Dean’s arms reached from behind him, pulling him closer. As it had the night before, their bare skin against skin sent a little shiver through him. He could not deny his attraction to Dean. The scent of him now was tempting, and the way his stubble contrasted with the soft lips that nuzzled at Cas’s neck and murmured against it, “G’morning, sunshine,” made him feel weak. 

What would happen now? What would happen to them? The thought that Dean might not regard him the same as before was unbearable. Dean wasn’t known for staying with one person for long, though, and perhaps he thought this was just…sex. Had it been? They certainly hadn’t made any love confessions to one another during their night of passion. Dean had confessed that the angel was more than a friend or brother to him and kissed him. What followed was a whirlwind of kissing and pulling off each other’s clothes, and then there had been nothing in the world but him and Dean and that tiny motel bed. Talking hadn’t been the top priority.

Not that he’d wished for anything different. Cas had wanted this for so very long that he’d responded every bit as eagerly as Dean had started it all. He wanted Dean. He LOVED Dean. He just wasn’t so sure that Dean felt the same about him.

Slow circles drawn on his chest with calloused fingers pulled him from his thoughts. Dean kissed his neck again, more gently. 

“I know you’re not asleep,” he pointed out, sounding a little nervous now. “Everything okay?”

There was no avoiding this. Cas pulled away enough to turn and sit up on the edge of the bed, his stomach in knots.

“Yes.” No. 

He felt the bed shift as Dean sat up, too, and a hand rested tentatively on his bare shoulder. 

“Cas. Hey…look at me?” Looking would betray instantly that Cas was unhappy, but Dean had to find out sooner or later. He turned to sit and face the other man, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at him. Dean brushed his fingers over his neck — the side that had been hidden by the pillow — and offered an apologetic smile. “Looks like I left a mark…whoops.”

Castiel did meet his eyes, then, still wondering where this left them. What were they to each other now? He didn’t know how to ask that. He didn’t know how to ask if Dean loved him.

“It’s okay,” he managed, almost choking on the words. His throat felt tight. Dean caught on immediately, sitting back a little and studying his face in concern. 

“No, something’s wrong.” He bit his lip, glancing around at the tangled bedsheets and the way the pillows sat askew on the bed. No doubt he thought something they’d done last night was to blame. Dean matched the tousled bed, his hair wild and the anti-possession tattoo stark like a badge against his chest. Castiel wanted to touch him, kiss him. Ached for him, whether he wanted to or not. If only they could just go back to bed and forget about how to make this work. 

Was Dean his friend? Lover? Did Cas have any right to call him either now that the night was over? The brunette set a worried gaze on him, his brows furrowed sadly. 

“Come on, Cas. Talk to me.” 

The angel lowered his gaze from Dean to the bed, knowing he looked upset and unable to do anything about it. He needed to find the words to explain what he felt, and they were hiding from him. 

“Are we…” He trailed off, frowning at the rumpled bedsheets. He had to just say it. “Are we still friends?”

He dared look up at Dean then, and was surprised to see hurt in his eyes. Dean probably thought he regretted what they’d done. The brunette forced a small smile, though.

“If that’s what you want.” Cas wasn’t the best at reading people, but even he could hear the unspoken second statement Dean was making here. ‘If that’s all you want us to be.’ That wasn’t what he’d been asking, though.

Mustering his courage, the angel reached for Dean’s hands, holding them tightly. He looked the other man in the eyes, admiring the sprinkling of freckles over his nose and the way his eyelashes brushed his cheeks. He was biting his bottom lip, and it was everything that Castiel could do not to lean in and kiss away the sting of it. No, he didn’t want to just be friends.

“I want you,” he said honestly, bluntly. “Your friendship, but also you.” 

Dean searched his eyes, and it was his turn to struggle for the right words now. 

“Friends with benefits?” He suggested finally, a bit weakly. It didn’t seem that this was a good thing, with the way he said it. 

“Friends who love each other,” Castiel clarified, ducking his head. “If…if you love me.” His throat felt tight again. There was no mistaking it with how he’d said it, and he was giving Dean a chance to change his mind. What if he did, though? Dean was more than his friend or lover — Dean was home to him.

What if he lost his home?

“Cas…” Dean sounded like he’d just realized what this was all about. His hands were warm on Castiel’s face as he tilted his chin up. “Of course I do. I love you. Thought you knew that,” he murmured, leaning forward enough that their foreheads touched. “Is that what’s bothering you?”

“You never said it,” Cas replied — not accusing, just a statement. He avoided Dean’s eyes, keeping his own downcast. “I thought maybe this was all that you wanted from me.” He could barely explain himself — he was too busy being overwhelmed by the relief he felt. Dean did love him. They…they loved each other, then. Yet he still wanted to be friends. Cas didn’t understand how that worked, but it seemed infinitely better than having ruined it all with their passion the night before.

Dean sighed, sitting back a little.

“Well that’s definitely not the case. I’m sorry, Cas, I should’ve told you a long time ago. I was just…” He ran a hand through his hair, looking around at the messy room like he would find the right answer there. Now that the worries of losing him were addressed, Castiel could appreciate that this wasn’t easy for Dean, either. They had been friends for years, and now they would have to adjust to this. Maybe Dean had been afraid, too. If he was, he’d hidden it well.

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to the brunette’s perfect mouth, slipping an arm up around his shoulders. Dean made a pleasant little sound of surprise, pulling him closer as well. His arms fit perfectly around Cas, like they were made for him. How had they resisted each other this long?

The kiss ended in breathless smiles and Dean pushing him down to the bed again. He rested his head on Cas’s chest, and the angel slowly combed his fingers through his hair, relief replaced by gratitude. It was still sinking in that Dean loved him, too. He was grateful that it wasn’t only him. 

“What are we now?” He asked. “To each other?” He wouldn’t blame Dean if ‘friends’ was the first word that came to mind, after how many years that had been the case.

“I’m yours,” Dean replied easily, surprising him. “And you’re mine. Sound good?”

Cas smiled. 

“Sounds perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you just need some fluff and angst and excuses to described disheveled Dean Winchester.


End file.
